you see i love this place i've grown to know

& i know you would touch us with a ten-foot pole, because we're north americans!



Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30:

Prayer: Lord, may the words of my lips and the meditations of all our hearts be part of your yoke, which you have invited us to take up. Amen

Happy Fourth of July!

It is that holiday where we celebrate our independence, where we celebrate that story of the United States.

Have you noticed, though, that the story of what the United States is has been contested?

Take your pick of one of the talking heads we have nationally broadcasted. Many of these figures have a different idea of what, exactly, the story of the United States is.

There is, apparently, a lot of competition for the story of the United States.

Why?

Why is that? Why the confusion?

Honestly, I don’t think it is that hard to figure out why there is this confusion about it…

A lot of this confusion has to do with the same tensions we have in ourselves.

Remember last week?

Last week, how I invited us to see ourselves in those unlikely and vulnerable stories. Recall how I invited us to find ourselves deeply woven into the story of God’s work?

Well, how has that been going for you?

As much as we would like to find ourselves in those unlikely and vulnerable stories, it is hard to do. As much as we know in the marrow of our bones that we are vulnerable and in need, it is hard for us to see ourselves in those vulnerable stories because we cannot set aside that image of ourselves.

You know that image, that image of us strong and powerful.

We fancy that the pursuit of power, wealth, fame, beauty, autonomy, whatever, once completed, will finally free us from all that holds us in bondage.

Really, we find it hard to trust that it is okay to find ourselves in those unlikely stories.

As nice as the idea that Jesus will show up in those unlikely and vulnerable places of our lives is, we tend to think that it is power that will finally save us. Myself, too.

And, of course, that is to say nothing of the assumption that we can finally complete that pursuit of perfect power, beauty, wealth, fame, or autonomy…

Jesus knows better, though.

Jesus knows that those pursuits only lead to bondage.

Bondage to a body image, bondage to money, bondage to media, ultimately bondage to ourselves…

Jesus knows that, paradoxically, we have found ourselves burdened by what we thought would liberate us. Jesus knows were weary and heavy leaden from those never-ending pursuits.

Not only does Jesus know better, he also has good news; take my yoke upon you, Jesus says. Jesus, quite confidently, tells us he has freedom for us, and rest from all our pursuits.

Jesus invites us to have this rest, this freedom, by seeing ourselves the way we really are, the way God sees us; as infants. You remember; infants, the weak and vulnerable of the world.

Set those pursuits aside, and see yourself for who you are, Jesus says. Jesus describes those of us who follow him as infants, apparently whether we’re ready to hear it or not.

But Jesus also says something very hopeful. Jesus says, very plainly, God is revealed to infants, God is revealed to people like me and you.

So, while it may seem difficult to find ourselves in those unlikely and vulnerable stories, Jesus seems quite confident that this is good news.

Jesus seems to understand that when we admit to ourselves and God that we’re tired, that we’re disillusioned by those pursuits we thought would free us but have only left us in bondage, we become freed.

Jesus knows we’re weary and carrying heavy burdens, whether we can admit it to ourselves, or not. Jesus knows this, and invites us to embody an alternative life.

Jesus tells us God is revealed to the infants, and as hard as it is to see ourselves as vulnerable, we cannot deny that when Jesus says come to me you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, that are hearts are moved. As much as we fancy ourselves self-sufficient and powerful we can’t deny that we don’t always feel powerful, we can’t deny that at times we don’t long for help.

We can’t deny that ignoring our fatigue, that those endless pursuits haven’t left us tired.

So, like last week, dare to see God working in those vulnerable places of your life, in those vulnerable places of the world. Jesus tells us there is an alternative to those pursuits of power, Jesus invites you to see yourself in the story of God’s work amongst the most vulnerable.

Jesus invites us to see ourselves in those stories, and all the while Jesus promises rest and safety.

Rest, in that we are finally freed from this exhausting trip which refuses to see ourselves as anything but powerful, or at the very least on path to become powerful.

Safety, in that, when we see ourselves for what we are, we become freed. We become freed to see God’s work in the vulnerable places. No longer does our burdensome pursuit demand that God can only work in the places we would want, or expect, God to work.

Now we are freed from our fears that God cannot work in those vulnerable places.

God is revealed as one who tends to, cares for, and lives amongst the vulnerable; ourselves.

That is the tension we live in. Pursuing our own desires, which may often seem safer but ends up putting us into bondage. Jesus recognizes this, and invites us to live alternatively to those pursuits of selfish gain.

Jesus does this by inviting us to see ourselves as we are, infants, humans, vulnerable. Jesus invites us to see ourselves as we are, and see that we are loved. Luther has this great quote where he says God does not love us because we are beautiful, God’ love makes us beautiful.

When we finally comes to terms with who we are we are, and whose we are, we are finally able to set aside those never-ending goals and take upon Jesus’ yoke, which ends up freeing us from our pursuits and finding we’re already loved..

Jesus invites us not to find power in our ability to flex our muscles, by those purse muscles, smiling muscles, biceps, or that individualism muscles. Instead we’re invited to find true power in our ability to set aside those pursuits, recognize that we’re all vulnerable and in need of help, and yet to trust that we’re loved, trust that God will show up in those vulnerable places.

Or, to put it another way, we’re invited to find true power in our ability to love selflessly and find ourselves already loved completely.

However, as good as all that sounds, though, it is hard. It is hard.

This tension, the tension of the story we would like to live in and that story we cannot seem to set aside, is the reason we’re so unclear about the story of the Fourth of July, the story of the United States, the story of our lives.

On the Statue of Liberty it reads:

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

the wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me.”

This is part of our creed, yet we’re addicted to pursuits of power. This tension is the source of the conflict about what the story of the United States is, the source of the conflict that rages within ourselves. It is hard to trust that our truest power is in our ability to accept our vulnerability, yet trust and love.

Yet, Martin Luther King Jr. already told us that a great nation is a compassionate one.

And as Jesus has already lived, God’s greatness, God’s power, is always expressed in God’s ability to be vulnerable, to be compassionate. In short, God’s power is always expressed in God’s ability to love.

As hard as it is to realize that the call to see ourselves for what we are is not a threat, we live in these tensions.

Yet the call to manifest our power to love and trust even in those vulnerable places is a promise. God wouldn’t call us to it otherwise.

See yourselves in these stories, find God working in those vulnerable places. And, even if you can’t, the duties of my internship compel me to tell us all something. Whether we recognize it or not, God is working in those places. Look. Jesus is playing the flute for us to dance to, and mourning with us. Join the game.

Amen.

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